


Fear

by SeasaltStars



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, healing together, implied/offscreen nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:50:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasaltStars/pseuds/SeasaltStars
Summary: Lorenz realizes that he, annoyingly, may have more in common with Sylvain after all. And for once, his future comes into question... what if he can't fit the mold he's been given?





	Fear

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time uploading any of my fanfiction for other people to see. I wrote this on a whim when I realized how Lorenz and Sylvain had similar struggles and how they could work through them together. The game won't give us more mlm but I sure will. May or may not add more parts as time and life permit?

With one final wave of Byleth’s hand, lecture was dismissed for the day. The Golden Deer students collected their things and went their various ways in their various paces. Lorenz, for one, was the first one out the door with a huff.

The Blue Lions classroom next door had just been released as well, students trickling out in the afternoon sun. It was a gorgeous, mild Tuesday; perfect for putting someone in his place.

And there he was.

“Sylvain. A word?”

Though Lorenz was a tiny bit taller than Sylvain, the smug redhead always seemed to cut a much more imposing figure. It annoyed him. Just about everything about Sylvain annoyed him, including their shared class and combat interests.

“Lorenz? Yeah, what’s up?” 

Sylvain admittedly didn’t know Lorenz very well. They bumped into each other occasionally while practicing riding, but that was about it. It’s not like he’d ever had a conversation with the guy.

“Inside, please.”

Sylvain shrugged, but followed Lorenz all the same. The Blue Lions classroom had emptied out by then.

“You, uh, look angry.”

“I /am/ angry, Sylvain. I approach you regarding your treatment of my classmates in Golden Deer; your advances are upsetting the girls. Marianne was practically beside herself today, she could hardly swing her sword at all.”

Lorenz did not like the expression Sylvain had.

“You’re? You’re mad at /me/ for flirting? Well that’s rich. You’re doing the same thing, hypocrite, and I don’t see you taking any time to self-reflect about what a ‘problem’ that is for the girls.”

“How dare you!” His relaxed posture dropped completely. “I do not flit about from lady to lady as you do, seeking their attention for the thrill of it like some /child/! I am simply using this opportunity to find, perhaps, a worthy union for the Gloucester household. Unlike you, Sylvain, I care about my future.”

“Future?” Something had changed in Sylvain’s voice; good. He’d hit a nerve. “What future, Lorenz? To go back home a shiny new knight, just to be married off to some strange noblewoman I’ve never met? So that maybe we’ll have a kid with my crest? To hell with the ones that don’t, right? Because that’s the future /I/ have to look forward to, Lorenz, and I’m not alright with that at all. What about you? That’s your future too, are YOU alright with that? Is that really what you wan-“

“IT’S NOT ABOUT WHAT I WANT!!”

If the look on Sylvain’s face hadn’t been enough to confuse him, his own voice had been. It was… rare, when he broke composure in such a way.

“… It’s not about what I want. I have obligations as a noble. To neglect them is to fail at the one thing I’ve been burdened with in this life. I will not allow that.”

Sylvain shook his head. “Nah, that’s bullshit.”

“/Excuse/ me?”

“That’s bullshit, Lorenz. There’s no way you accept that.”

“It doesn’t matter if I accept it or not. All that matters are the things I do. And I will do my part.”

“’Obligations’, ‘doing my part’, man Lorenz. They really brainwashed you, huh?”

“And what about you?? You’re really so keen on letting your line just die?? You are the Gautier’s only heir, are you not?”

“Yes, Lorenz, I do intend on letting my line die. Because I’m not interested in becoming a pawn in everyone else’s political game, like /YOU/ want to so badly.”

Something twisted in Lorenz’ expression at that. 

Contempt. Complete, utter contempt. 

“… I /detest/ you, Sylvain.”

The words only made Sylvain smirk. Coming from Lorenz, who at this point he had backed into one of the desks. Pinned.

“Oh yeah? You only say that because I’m /right/, Lorenz.”

He leaned in closer, right up to Lorenz’ perfectly made-up face.

“So what are you gonna do about it?”

There were no thoughts involved. No decisions, no second guesses. Lorenz’ hands shot up and grabbed Sylvain by the collar. With only a moment’s hesitation- an invitation for Sylvain to resist, one he refused- he dragged Sylvain against him and kissed him full on the mouth.

Lorenz had never ‘made out’ before. A polite peck on the cheek here and there with prospective courts, but never… never this. This was sloppy. Unbecoming. /Beneath him/. And yet here he was, finding that he was the one beneath someone else now, fully lying on the desk as Sylvain leaned into the kiss with all his weight, fiddling with the buttons on the collar of Lorenz’ blazer.

It felt good.

Better than he expected.

When Sylvain finally pulled back for air, he moved down to Lorenz’ now exposed neck, leaving a gentle trail of kisses while he worked on the remaining buttons.

But the brush of Sylvain’s teeth snapped Lorenz back into the moment; where they were. Classroom door wide open.

He grabbed a fistful of red hair and yanked back as hard as he could.

“OW-“

“Not here, you idiot!!” Lorenz hissed. “This isn’t private at all! People will see us! They’ll /talk/!”

Sylvain raised his gaze to meet him. It made Lorenz’ heart skip a beat… why?

“Not here? As in… somewhere else?”

“What else would it mean, you fool?”

“Lorenz… are you saying yes?”

The sentence hung in the air, heavy as lead.

This was it. This was happening.

“… Yes, YES Sylvain, are you satisfied?”

Sylvain nuzzled under Lorenz’ jaw, leaving another kiss. The soft whine Lorenz gave in response made his heart race.

“Oh Lorenz, you’ll know when I’m satisfied.”

Lorenz flushed beet red.

“Wh… Well, did you have someplace else in mind, then?”

“We could just go to my room. Or yours. No one else should be ready to head back to the dorms yet, I don’t think. Still too early.”

Lorenz fumbled to do the buttons of the blazer back up. “If /anyone/ sees us together, if anyone finds out what we did, I will end you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain laughed. “I believe you, but you’re the one who said yes, aren’t you?”

Lorenz could only give an annoyed groan in response, and followed Sylvain out of the classroom.

………………………

Lorenz’ mind came to consciousness, sight fighting to return to his eyes through the haze. Glancing up, he could see a tiny bit of night sky poking through the mostly-drawn curtains. The air was still, completely silent through the second-floor dorms. He figured it had to be somewhere in the middle of the night.

Then it occurred to him where he was.

And that Sylvain was still holding his hand.

He shifted over to face his left, which caused a tweak of pain in his neck. Sylvain was sound asleep, hand still gently closed around Lorenz’.

He looked… peaceful. The most he’d ever seen him, even moreso than when he caught him flirting with his classmates. Yes, in comparison, this was completely different.

… All of it had been.

Everything came rushing back to Lorenz as his mind fought through the fog of exhaustion.

He…

And /Sylvain/… Sylvain, another man…

Lorenz, in that moment, wanted so badly to feel /bad/. To feel guilt, to feel some semblance of disgust for what he’d done. But seeing Sylvain’s sleeping face, hand still holding his even while sleeping…

No.

No, no, no.

It wasn’t right. It was nothing. It meant nothing. A momentary lapse in judgement, a mistake to sweep under the rug and pretend it never happened.

Lorenz had an image to uphold. Duties to his family. A crest to carry on. None of that involved sleeping with a noble man from another kingdom. How… scandalous.

… And yet… why was it so hard to pull his hand free from Sylvain’s…? Why did his heart ache at the thought? Why did he hesitate?  
Control yourself, Lorenz. It’s all meaningless. It’s just mindless temptations.

That’s all it was.

That liveliness, that /freedom/ he’d felt in Sylvain’s embrace… wasn’t real.

Lorenz carefully pulled his hand out from Sylvain’s soft grasp, then climbed out of bed as gently as he could. He /ached/, and there was this spot between his neck and left shoulder that hurt when he turned his head. 

… Ah. Right.

Lorenz redressed as quietly as possible, then tried to smooth his hair back down best he could in the dark (thankfully, grooming was something he was quite practiced with). When he’d convinced himself he looked presentable, he nudged the door open to try and peek down the hall, just in case. He couldn’t have anyone witness him leaving /Sylvain/’s room in the middle of the night.

… There was that hesitation again. Stop it, Lorenz. But he couldn’t quite hear his own words.

To his relief, the hallway was empty, not a sound to be heard. He crept down the hallway with the lightest footsteps he could manage, taking a moment to peek into Claude’s room. He had left the door slightly open, as he always did, a habit that annoyed Lorenz greatly. Claude was out cold, laying perpendicular on his bed between two mounds of books. How he got any rest like that, Lorenz couldn’t begin to guess.

Once in the safety of his locked room, Lorenz conjured a small flame and lit a few candles. As he disrobed to change into more suitable sleepwear, he caught his reflection in his mirror. He was a mess. ‘Frayed at the ends’, he’d describe it. He did an awful job at trying to tame his hair, and Sylvain had left an /impressive/ bruise on his left shoulder.

Such a beastly act, Lorenz scoffed. Yet he’d been the one who begged for it, hadn’t he?

The light didn’t help. The memories came back clearer, made worse as he woke up more. The finer sensory things; the small touches, the gentle tone to Sylvain’s voice…

… Because he /had/ been… perhaps not gentle, but. Accommodating. Communicative. Lorenz had expected to feel used, some spiteful part of him almost /wanted/ to feel that way so he could justify hating Sylvain for it, but no. He had been good to him. Damn it, he /had/ been. Sylvain was a completely different person with him than the Sylvain flirting with every girl in the school.

And Lorenz /had/ loved it. No matter how hard he tried to shove the thoughts back down, he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to regret what he did, at the very core. How starved he had been… how alive it made him feel.

… Yes. That was it.

For the first time, Lorenz had done something for himself. Not because it was expected of him, not because it was what a good noble son did. 

He was the one to say yes. He didn’t wait around on someone else’s approval. And his decision had made him feel a way no ‘good noble girl’ could ever possibly replicate.

Lorenz sat on the edge of his bed, letting the weight of these revelations sink in. Though it was more like letting them fight it out. But the words “you’re the son of House Gloucester, you CAN’T feel this way” weren’t having much impact in this moment. Even the feelings of contempt for Sylvain couldn’t quite drown the lingering euphoria he’d made him feel.

“What do I /do/?”

There was no answer, of course. Just a quiet room in a perfectly still night.

… A very large part of him wanted to creep back down the hall and get back in Sylvain’s bed. That warmth next to him, that reassurance… how long had he been craving something like that, locked in irons inside himself? But now it was free…

He thought about the other relationships he’d seen among his peers. He wasn’t sure if he could count Claude’s annoying flirting with their professor, nor could he tell if Claude was serious about it or not. For all his bumbling around, Claude was a master at hiding his true feelings and intentions, Lorenz could give him that. 

All right, bad example to start with. 

What about Ferdinand? He’d seen him staring at Hubert on more than one occasion, with that sort of longing gaze you read about in children’s books. And he’d talked about Hubert an… well, an above-average amount whenever they’d care for the horses together. Could he be feeling the same thing? A good noble son, longing for someone- no, an entire lifestyle he couldn’t have?

Then he remembered Ignatz, right there in his own house, with his ‘friendship’ with Linhardt. If there was one thing Lorenz had gathered about the von Hevring heir, it was that he wouldn’t even keep his eyes open for anything he wasn’t interested in. And Linhardt had hardly seemed more awake than when he hung around Ignatz. And that look on Ignatz’ face whenever he was near, whenever he talked about him…

An odd pang of envy hit Lorenz at that. Neither the von Hevrings nor the Victors, even if they weren’t nobility, would ever approve of the pair. So why did they entertain the notion? Neither were the sort to seek each other’s company for simple thrills; the thought of Ignatz being that type was almost enough to make Lorenz laugh.

Sylvain’s words from their argument before resurfaced. “I do intend on letting my line die.”

… Perhaps they had thought of that as well…?

… No. That option simply wasn’t on the table for his own life. Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, running away from everything he’d spent his entire life building to be with a man. Perhaps not Sylvain, but someone else. For the sake of ‘happiness’. His place was to find a suitable woman and fulfill his duties as head of the Gloucester house, and that was that.

… How bleak it seemed to think about that now.

Lorenz put the candles out and returned to bed, his mind chasing itself in circles. And yet, without fail, his thoughts always returned to Sylvain’s embrace, and the feel of his lips against his, and his hand gently closed around his own.


End file.
